


A Taste of Home

by JantoJones



Series: Brief Briefings [20]
Category: The Man From U.N.C.L.E. (TV)
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-23
Updated: 2016-07-23
Packaged: 2018-07-26 07:31:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 370
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7565521
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JantoJones/pseuds/JantoJones
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Illya's dinner is a reminder of home.</p>
            </blockquote>





	A Taste of Home

Illya stepped into his apartment and locked the door behind him. He leaned against the wood, closed his eyes and let go a long deep sigh; alone at last. His arrival home would have been half an hour ago, if he hadn't had to go shopping to gather the things he was going to need. He placed his bag full of purchases on the coffee table and unpacked each one.

First came the borscht, followed by the pirozhki* and pelmeni*. After this came shaslyk*, blini and a portion of syrniki*, with sour cream and honey. Illya carefully arranged the food on the table, before going into the kitchen for a plate and some cutlery. He also extracted his vodka from the freezer, but didn't get a glass. He wasn't in the mood for small measures. All these items were put onto the table, which left him with only two more things to do before he was ready to eat.

The first of these was music. Illya decided to forgo on his beloved jazz and chose instead to listen to Stravinsky. As the music filled the apartment, he went into his bedroom to fetch the finishing touch. It was something he was very aware would cause him issues if were ever to be seen. Instead, Illya kept it hidden, apart from at times such as this. The little red flag on a stand wasn't much bigger than the palm of his hand, but as he unfurled it and revealed the hammer and sickle, his breath caught in his throat.

Despite what many people seemed to assume, Illya Kuryakin was not a defector. He was a loyal Soviet citizen, though he had to admit that he preferred his life in the west. Every so often, however, Illya longed for his homeland. There was nothing and no-one there for him, but that didn't stop him from missing it.

Sitting down, Illya cracked the top open on the vodka and raised the bottle to sky.

"Doma. _(home)_ "

He took a long slug of the vodka before he was faced with the decision of what to have first.

_*Pirozhki – Baked stuffed buns_  
Pelmeni – Filled dumplings  
Shashlyk – A form of shish kebab  
Syrniki – Fried Curd Fritters 


End file.
